The reality of burnout
Have you ever experienced burnout? The kind that lives deep in your bones, that you can feel in all areas of your life. At first you wonder why you're feeling so sluggish. Maybe you're getting sick. Maybe you're not getting enough sleep... or eating right... or getting enough exercise. So, you try to rectify each of those areas.
But nothing is helping. And I mean nothing.
You suddenly look at your life and realize you're emotionally and physically exhausted, mentally detached and forgetful, are more irritable, and feelings of apathy begin to creep in.
That, my friend, is burnout. And I have felt it many, many times in my life.
Burnout is one of those road hazards in life that high-achievers really should be keeping a close eye out for, but sadly—often because of their “I can do everything” personalities—they rarely see it coming. Because high-achievers are often so passionate about what they do, they tend to ignore the fact that they’re working exceptionally long hours, taking on exceedingly heavy work loads, and putting enormous pressure on themselves to excel—all of which make them ripe for burnout.
— Sherrie Bourg Carter Psy.D., Psychology Today
I wouldn't consider myself a high-achiever, although I think others would put me squarely in that camp. Regardless, as someone who has been in the throes of burnout more than a time or two over the past two decades of my life, I can attest to the fact that the symptoms of burnout can be nearly debilitating, if you let them get that bad.
The first time I recognized (after the fact) that I was dealing with burnout was when I was in law school. I was newly married, working a full-time job, going to school at night, and parenting my husband's daughter who had recently come to live with us. At the time, I figured, this what people do, right?
Being part of a part-time evening cohort did mean most folks were working and many were married. However, most did not have children, many were receiving financial support through outside sources. Although not the oldest member of my law school class, I was easily 10 years older than most of my colleagues. I was attempting to "keep up" with my classmates while also buying my first house, managing after-school programming for my step-daughter, attempting to pay my bills while racking up hundreds of thousands of dollars in academic debt. It just didn't compute.
I remember clearly the feelings of constriction in my chest as a near constant. Sure someone was going to find out I wasn't good enough or smart enough to be in law school. Sure someone was going to point out that I wasn't handling it all with grace and skill. The constant exhaustion, over caffeination, and feelings of anxiety and unworthiness.
But this was all part of going to law school, right? I mean, I had heard the terrifying stories people told of their path towards attorney-dom. I had seen Paper Chase, and I still willingly entered the trenches. Now, of course, I wasn't at an elite law school. Not a bad one, mind you, but not Harvard or Yale or Stanford.
The stress began to wear me down in so many ways. Physically, I began to have gastrointestinal issues, gained a lot of weight, and felt the physical manifestation of anxiety nearly all the time. Emotionally, I felt ashamed that I wasn't handling things better, worried I was a fraud and would soon be "found out", and anxious that I wasn't doing things "right." Mentally, I wasn't thinking as quickly as I once did, searched for words and concepts sometimes to no avail, and felt I wasn't smart enough to handle what was in front of me.
As I ended law school and went directly into the workforce as an attorney, my marriage started to fall apart. It's funny. I chose to go to law school instead of continue to pursue a life in the film industry (my true love) because I heard the chances of divorce were 75% in the entertainment industry and 60% for those attending law school. And yet, that's exactly where we ended up.
And that's when I finally crashed. The burnout I felt at work that I carried with me from law school coupled with a failed marriage sent me completely crashing down. I quit my job on the spot, without a clue what I was going to do. I figured, if I was going down, let's go down... all the way.
And then, I slowly started rebuilding. Step by step, I rebuilt myself, and my life.
I have experience burnout four other times since then, each time I catch it earlier. This has allowed the time in burnout to be shorter and less intense each time. I don't know that I have the type of personality that I will ever fully eradicate burnout from my life, but with the tools I now have in my toolbox, I feel much more equipped to deal with it when it does re-occur.
My current toolbox includes:
my coach,
my therapist,
my acupuncturist,
my doctor,
my massage therapist,
a support group of amazing women,
meditation,
reiki, and
mindfulness practices.
I use any or all of these tools depending on where I am in my cycle of burnout. I call them my "dream team."
One of the things I have learned in my trip around the burnout block is catch it early, name it, and do something about it. If you wait, push it aside, ignore it, or deny it, you are doing yourself more harm than good. You will crash. It's inevitable. The only way to prevent crashing it by nipping burnout in the bud as soon as possible.
Being in the non-profit world full-time for the past 12 years, I have seen wonderful individuals completely lose themselves in burnout. Many have left the field. Many bounce from job to job in hopes that the next one will finally be the panacea. And each time, I pray they find the help they need to cope, grow, and heal.
Burnout is no joke. It hurts. It constricts. It paralyzes. If you feel like you may be suffering from some of the tell-tale signs of burnout, get help. Pull together your "dream team" and start working yourself to the other side.
